


Good Terms

by klip



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Action & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Team Dynamics, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klip/pseuds/klip
Summary: Absolutely unoriginal but extremely self-indulgent Nellis fic, because I wanted to and because it's still one of my fave ships.
Relationships: Ellis/Nick (Left 4 Dead)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Good Terms

6 hours had passed from the close shave with the rescue helicopter pilot near Earl’s Gator Village and already they were neck-deep in swarms of infected, battling through the boggy marshland at a nearly stagnant pace, hoisting their knees up out of the mud with every step and dolling bullets as fast as their trigger fingers would allow.

It was frantic, chaotic, and barely any room to breathe or collect composure. Limbs and teeth and splatters of mud and blood blocking whatever light could even reach this miserable place. So it shouldn’t have come as any surprise when Ellis accidentally fired a round of birdshot directly into Nick’s side.

Ellis had been twisting and turning as the infected clawed from every angle, and when he’d finally been able to fully reload, he unloaded it again immediately into every squirming, scratching, biting creature that surrounded him. And in his fury, he’d targeted Nick’s bleary figure as the man appeared from behind a cypress tree. Ellis’s mind short-circuited. In that split moment, he’d squeezed the trigger, but had managed to yank the shotgun aside, clipping Nick across the side of his torso instead of square in the chest.

There was a guttural shout of surprise, and Nick dropped into the mire with a splash. 

“Nick! Nick, shit I’m sorry” Ellis yelled over the groaning of their attackers. Ten or fifteen shots later, and the group had dispersed the horde. And the moment they had, Ellis collapsed beside Nick who was knelt in the mud groaning.

“Oh hell, oh goddamn, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry Nick I’m—“ Ellis spiralled, desperately clutching at Nick’s shoulder to pull him up. 

Nick could only respond with a deep, agonised growl through clenched teeth. To their right, Rochelle and Coach came sloshing through the swamp, stopping just short of the crouched pair. 

“Hell naw, what happened, Hunter get’cha?” Coach panted, lowering his bloodied axe, caked in gore. 

Rochelle could read the situation quickly enough though, based on Ellis’ warbled, relentless apologies. “Come on, up we go, we gotta move” she sidled alongside Ellis and they awkwardly hauled Nick to a standing position. Surprised and worried that he allowed them without complaint. 

Staggering and almost doubled-over on his feet, Nick muttered, “F-fucking hick…”. They limped through the marshes, steering towards a ramshackle cabin amidst the fog, “fucking little shit” he continued to seethe. “I’m the only goddamn person out here wearing a white suit, El.” Nick clutched tightly to his side, the white suit in question now staining a deep red, as they hobbled onwards, Coach leading the way.

Ellis didn’t stop apologising. 

Even when Nick was cleaned and bandaged and riding high on pills, Ellis profusely begged forgiveness. Rochelle did most of the dressing, but the southerner clung to her, doing absolutely everything he could to help remedy the situation. To tentatively climb out of this deep pit he’d put himself in. But she shooed him away, as he was only slowing her down, or setting Nick on edge. 

Three days passed in the shack as they awaited Nick’s recovery. Or at least, until he was stable enough to move again. It was hardly a safe house or even a secure location, most of the back of the building was dilapidated and the walls collapsed. Only the front room, the kitchen, and a bedroom on the upper floor were airtight. Nick had taken the upstairs room. It was the only room without a window, and they felt marginally more confident to let him rest up there in peace. Fortunately, there had been no further hordes. They just tried to stay as quiet as possible, taking turns on the porch.

Ellis hadn’t gone upstairs the entire time. He’d never seen Nick this furious at him. Usually if the northerner was particularly indignant about Ellis’s existence, Ellis would give him about 30 minutes reprieve, before tentatively worming his way back into favour with gentle teases or self deprecating jokes until Nick begrudgingly gave in and joined him. But that wasn’t going to work this time. There was no light jest that Ellis could offer that wouldn’t just seem incredibly inappropriate. And Ellis, for once, was aware of it.

It was a shame. They’d been getting closer the last week. The initial coldness when they met had warmed, through painstaking persistence on Ellis’ side, and the conman had even taken to sharing pills and first aid with him. Those little rewards had been stoking a fire within Ellis, and he’d wanted the man’s approval more and more eagerly. Trying to keep his cool, but still unable to hide his ear-to-ear grin any time Nick remarked on a particularly good use of a molotov or effective headshot. 

But for what progress he’d made at thawing the northerner’s chilly demeanour, it was like an irreparable ice age now. 

“Ellis, sweetie,” Rochelle piped up from the kitchen. Ellis glanced up from his spot leaning over the rat-eaten settee next to the window where he’d been counting ammunition. “Come take this up for him.”

The hick lurched. Hesitated, before cautiously walking to the doorway. “Yew sure?” He tried his best to convey his trepidation though his voice, but Rochelle smiled and disregarded it. She handed him a bowl of canned stew that she’d warmed on the stovetop, another bowl of soapy water, and a box of first aid.

“He’ll talk you through changing the dressing”

“Ro, I think you should- I mean, you know what you’re doin—“

“Ellis, you can’t avoid him forever.” She turned back to the stove, mopped the sweaty baby hairs from her forehead, before picking up the spoon once more. 

But Ellis hadn’t moved. He swayed his weight from one foot to the other, panicking a little. “I- I mean… Coach is just on the porch, i’m gonna get him to—“ 

Rochelle let the spoon drop into the pot with an impatient thunk, her tolerance dissolved. “Look, we haven’t got much food left and we need to get moving, so I need you both to talk it out so we can work together when we leave. You understand? I need you two to reach some sort of… mutual ground, I don’t know. We all _need_ to be on good terms.” She gave him a hard stare, smile gone, brow high in expectancy. Ellis had nothing else to offer.

He nodded reluctantly, fumbling the items in his arms. He gave Rochelle one last worried, chagrined glance, before shuffling to the stairs.

Ellis tapped gingerly on the door, before letting himself in with a shrill squeak from the buckling frame. He hissed at the sound, feeling wholly unwelcomed by the room itself, and awkwardly stepped in, shoulders stiff.

The man rolled his head towards the sound, grunting as he hoisted himself a little higher in the steel framed bed. “You here to finish the job?” He muttered, immediately annoyed that his tone carried an indignant quality rather than the lighthearted one he’d intended.

“Nick, I’m real sor—“

“Don’t. Christ, kid, don’t.” 

Ellis clicked his jaw shut. He sidled up to the bed and took a seat at the foot of it, lowering the bowl of stew towards Nick, who took it with indifference.

“I need’ta help change yer bandages, too” Ellis murmured, fumbling the bowl of water to the floor and clenching the first aid kid in his hands uncomfortably, not really sure what to do with himself. Nick was eating, so now wasn’t the time, so he limply dropped the kit bag to one side and stared down at his knees. 

He wanted to talk. _God_ , he wanted to talk. But he restrained himself. Chewed his lips instead and readjusted the knot on his overalls twice over.

The effort didn’t go unnoticed by Nick, and he inwardly commended the kid’s ability to hold back. But he wasn’t in the mood to torture the boy further. He’d mulled over the situation in the days up here and any animosity towards Ellis had long withered away. He lowered his fork. “The pellets didn’t go deep, Ellis, it’s fine. I’m not mad anymore. I just don’t want to hear another apology.” 

Ellis snapped his head to him, eyes bright with relief and hope. Like he’d been washed of his sins. Salvation. And then, the verbal dam broke, “I swear to ya’ Nick, you jus’ came outta nowhere. I couldn’t even see, there was so gawdamn many, I thought you was over by Ro n’ Coach and I swear to you man, I was tryin’ to keep track o’where e’rybody was in my mind but then you jus’ appeared and I was already pullin’ the trigger and i tried to stop it Nick, I tried to pull away. I been shootin since I was a youngen’, Nick, I ain’t never made no mistake like that in my—“

“Ellis.” Nick cut him off. Trying and failing to keep the bite out of his voice.

But Ellis hadn’t noticed the harshness of it. He had a goofy, relieved smile on his face and he happily shut up and simply basked in the forgiveness. As partially-feigned as he knew it may be. What mattered was that he was being given a chance.

Nick dropped the empty bowl on the flimsy nightstand with a clatter, “alright,” he rolled the threadbare blanket down a little, “lets get this over with”. He sat up straighter in the bed, opening his already un-buttoned shirt and peeling it gingerly off his shoulders.

Ellis grabbed for the first aid kit, and unzipped the pouch. 

“Not yet,” Nick uttered, tossing the garment aside, revealing his chest and bandaged torso, stained with old blood. “Help me get this off first.” He tugged at the wrappings.

Tossing the kit back onto the mattress, Ellis launched up and stepped over, reaching down behind Nick’s back to detach the tucked end of the bandage. Desperate to be as efficient as humanly possible, the southerner took it upon himself to unwind the material himself, leaning invasively close. He hadn’t noticed when the shaking had started, but he tried to damper it as he focused carefully on not irritating the wound or knocking Nick with an elbow.

Nick had only wanted help finding the end of the bandage, but he kept his mouth shut. Contented just to see Ellis contented. He raised his arms to let the younger man work, feeling the nervous heat roll off the kid in waves. As he leaned back to let him peel the gauze off the first bullet wound, Nick noticed the tenting in Ellis’ overalls, just below the tie. 

“Ellis,” he murmured.

“One second, I just gotta be careful,” the other responded, brow furrowed as he peeled the bloody fabric back. “I shoulda probably washed my hands before I did this” he added, deep in concentration, fingers not as nimble as Rochelle’s or Nick’s when it came to things like this.

Nick breathed a chuckle; clearly the kid was unaware of his bodily reaction. He leaned back against the cushion and watched Ellis’ scrunched face as he focused on gently peeling off more gauze. Nick couldn’t help it, the temptation to torment Ellis further was too great, and it hadn’t taken much over the last few weeks to figure out what it was that Ellis responded to.

“Gently, El,” he spoke quietly, almost whispered it, as Ellis’ ear was so close, “you’re doing real good, that’s it.” 

Ellis tried not to break his concentration but a blush started at his face and spread to his ears. He cleared his throat dryly, dropping a piece of gauze at the bedside table and shook the tremble from his hand before turning back for the last few pieces.

“Okay, now, pass me the water,” Nick uttered, a little louder.

He did as he was told, and watched as Nick gently dabbed the mild soapy solution around each small wound, hissing occasionally from the pain of the rough fabric. Ellis wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself as he watched, he readjusted his sitting position, only now starkly aware of his erection. The redness in his face increased tenfold and he attempted to subtly pull the arms of his overalls a little lower.

Of course, Nick had noticed. “Alright, need to let that dry,” he muttered, trying not to twist his torso as he lowered the bowl back onto the floor with a grunt. He pressed his upper back into the headrest and let out a weary sigh. Somehow, just using the washcloth had been physically taxing, like he’d done 10 sit-ups. But his mind was wide awake and enjoying every moment of Ellis’ inner torment. For starters, it was keeping Ellis _remarkably_ silent. “Well look at you, all quiet. Trying so hard to be good for me, aren’t you?”

Ellis’ eyes widened in shock, stomach tensing. Hands balling into fists as he spluttered out a response. “S’not.. not like that,” he breathed out a laugh, that sounded a little more desperate than he would’ve intended, but the tension in his body was overwhelming and he felt like a giant spotlight had landed on him. “Just real sorry n’ I just wanna make sure you not mad at me no more.” He lowered his gaze, not really sure if he was agreeing or disagreeing with what Nick was saying. 

“Told you, sport,” Nick murmured, relinquishing the tension by looking away, reaching for the med kit, “m’not mad.” He unzipped the pouch and pulled out a wad of gauze and bandages. “Okay, I’m gonna hold these in place while you wrap.” He tossed the roll to the younger man, who caught it fumbling. 

Ellis was remarkably less focused and precise at reapplying the bandages than he was at removing them. Not that it needed much of an explanation. His ears still burned with the knowledge that his persistent erection was so close to Nick’s hip, and he felt like such a teenager. Nick was _injured_. By _him_. Why was his body reacting like this? It was gross and inappropriate and he willed himself to calm down but it just wasn’t happening, and he practically leapt out of his skin when he felt Nick’s forearm brush against his ear from where it was held up to allow Ellis access.

“Careful, now,” Nick shushed, holding a palm flat on the bandages to keep everything still when Ellis lurched. “Gotta stop being so jumpy, Overalls, that’s how this happened in the first place.” He barely managed to keep the enjoyment out of this voice. 

Ellis swivelled his shoulders quickly to loosen up, genuinely determined to do this right. He leaned down and tore the bandage off with his teeth when it was wrapped sufficiently and tucked the tail end of it into Nick’s side. “There,” Ellis declared, a little breathless, “s’it look good to you?”

Nick twinged a slight smile, looking down at the wrappings indifferently, “well, I can still breathe, if that’s what you mean,” he reached over and grabbed his blue shirt. Coach had made a half-effort to wash the blood out of it, although it hadn’t resulted in much, and the garment was an odd fade of blue on top and maroon on the bottom. He shucked it over his shoulders a little stiffly. “Ellis...” He started, pushing his arms through the sleeves and flicking his hand to make sure the cuff rested at the wrist. “You want me to take care of that for you?” Flashing his eyes down to the boy’s crotch for a moment in gesture.

Ellis faltered, meeting Nick’s unconcerned eyes with his own bewildered expression. Nick just stared at him like he’d asked for the time. Ellis huffed a breath of laughter, face absolutely burning, just about every emotion passing across his features. He landed on ‘confused’. “W-whaddaya mean?”

Nick sighed. The kid lacked some elements of basic intelligence, but he wasn’t that dumb. Even though Nick knew Ellis was playing it up, he’d always hated being made to state the obvious with the southerner, because it happened a little too often. So if he had to, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush about it. “You’ve got a hard-on, Ellis.” He said, bold as daylight. “Now, you’ve done such a good job taking care of me, haven’t you..?”

Ellis blinked, semi-consciously reaching down to try and belatedly push down the tenting in his overalls, like he could save himself at this point. He nodded dazedly. 

“So I’m offering to return the favour, kid. Or you can head back down those stairs, it’s really up to you.” He raised his hands in a gesture of no-pressure, just staring Ellis down with the poker face he’d trained so well. 

The boy squirmed, still feeling like this was a tease or a joke, somehow. He was suddenly so, so aware of the swelling in his pants. So aware of how weirdly turned-on he was. Not really sure _why_. He wanted to leave if only to avoid some sadistic joke that Nick was playing on him. Maybe he was baiting him? Still mad at him, after all? The thoughts spiralled through his mind, the doubts and the hopes. He shuffled on his perch on the edge of the bed, licking his dry lips, glancing down to Nick’s own crotch region, hoping to see a similar reaction there. But there wasn’t, and Ellis had never been put in such a confusing situation in his life. But if there was one thing Ellis always was, it was honest, and he chose to react instinctively. “You… how are you gonna… um…”

It was all Nick needed, really. His gamble had paid off. He pulled himself a little higher in his lounging position, and raised a hand, crooked two fingers towards himself, “c’mere,” he said gently.

Still in a state of stupor, Ellis reacted to the instruction without thinking. He shuffled forwards, clumsily, knees knocking onto Nick’s own under the blanket and straddling the man’s shins. He scooted forwards, suddenly taken over by desperation and neediness and relief that this _wasn’t_ a cruel trick and Nick pressed a palm firmly on Ellis’ chest to stop him from getting all the way up. 

“Alright, easy now Tiger, I’m full of holes, remember?” Nick reached down and started pulling apart the tight knot of the sleeves and Ellis was vibrating with energy, practically thrusting already. God, he’d thought about this. Always tried to dismiss the fantasies when they crept into his head late at night though, willing them away as fast as they materialised because they’d just felt just so disrespectful. Like he really shouldn’t think about Nick that way, his comrade, his peer. But every positive affirmation, every rewarding smile or clap on the back or sharing of his supplies and Ellis would melt and hope and would feel just a little more dependant on it. This was like winning the grand prize.

Nick had managed to work the knot free, and rolled the overalls down and dragged the zipper. The southerner was breathing so hard above him that he thought the kid might faint. He rested both hands on Ellis’ thighs and rubbed up and down to try and settle him for a moment, looking up at the younger man. Ellis’ face was completely lax, mouth slightly ajar and cheeks flushed with sweat. “When was the last time you had this, El?” 

Twitching a little under the gentle pressure on his legs, Ellis didn’t really want to address the question right now, but he had always been remarkably good at talking, regardless. “I dunno, not since Josephine Buchanan gave me the hand job behind her stepdad’s chevy after I walked her home when she’d found out her boyfriend ditched her for Maisie Ridges, one o’her best friends…”

Nick’s hands paused for a moment, regretting asking in the first place. 

“Reckon that musta’ been ‘bout a year ago, now,” Ellis finished, oblivious to Nick’s reaction.

Nick placed his hands back at Ellis’ crotch and pulled the overalls and underwear down his thighs in one hard tug, “m’not giving you a hand job, Ellis.”

“Oh.”

He pressed forward and took Ellis down half-way, waiting for the musky taste to hit him. It wasn’t so bad, surprisingly. Certainly not as well washed as Nick would’ve liked, but expecting Ellis to be bathed, groomed and pristine was obviously extremely unfair in their current situation. A couple more dry pulses back and forth and Nick had worked up enough saliva to swallow the kid down to the hilt, and he heard the hick keen above him, thighs shaking. Nick gently worked up and down, trying not to tense his abdomen too much. He ushered Ellis forwards with a firm hand on his hip so he could lean back more comfortably, and Ellis happily obliged. Anything to be closer to the source of that sensation. 

“Holy shit, holy ffff-fucking—“ Ellis panted, slack-jawed and eyes barely open.

Nick was impressed that Ellis hadn’t tried to thrust yet, and he wrapped his hand around the base of the boy’s cock and tugged in motion with his mouth, other hand creeping around to the backs of his thighs, raking his nails up to Ellis’ exposed ass and grabbing a fistful. Holding him firmly, possessively. 

He pushed down one last time into his throat, and then pulled back entirely, replacing his mouth movement with his saliva-slick hand. A few hairs had fallen into his face and he rasped a little to catch his breath. 

“Gaw’damn, fucking…” Ellis was mumbling, still lost in a trance, eyes half-lidded, using one hand to hold up his T-shirt and he reached forwards with the other, tentatively hovering over Nick’s face.

“Hands to yourself, El… That’s it, good boy,” and Nick leaned forwards again, sucking the head for a moment before swallowing him down all the way. He switched hands, letting the dry one take position at the base of Ellis’ cock and with the saliva-wetted one he reached back again for Ellis’ ass, giving a gentle squeeze before cautiously pressing the pads of his fingers to his entrance, rubbing gently. 

The boy jolted a little, a small gasp of air inhaled at the contact. But his ragged breath kept coming, his little murmurs of arousal and breathy whines, so Nick took it as a sign that he hadn’t scared Ellis too much. He just continued rubbing, putting pressure on the opening but not penetrating, just letting Ellis feel sensation back there. 

When he felt Ellis’s hips stutter just a little, he knew he must be getting close by now. Ellis let out an abandoned grunt, and he lowered his hands to Nick’s shoulders for support but then obediently retracted them again, clawing at his T-shirt instead. Nick tightened his grip and increased the suction and pressed his tongue firmly onto the underside of Ellis’s cock with every upstroke, and Ellis broke form. His hips stuttered one last time, and then started thrusting, pushing forwards into the heat.

Nick had to release his grip on Ellis’ cock to hold his hip in place, but he didn’t remove his mouth to lecture him, he knew the southerner was agonisingly close now and as much as he wanted to prolong this experience, he knew they couldn't risk being up here alone for _too_ long. With a gasp and a sob, and one last desperate attempt to thrust forwards, Ellis let out a deep whine that might’ve been a _little_ too loud. Cum flooded Nick’s mouth and he pressed forwards to swallow it, letting Ellis feel the full heat of his mouth and throat as he rode out the last shudders of his orgasm. 

With muffled mm’s and groans, Ellis slowly returned to his senses, taking big lungfuls of air like he’d forgotten to do so before. He twitched sensitively as Nick pulled away, the man quickly tucking Ellis back into his pants, just incase. Not that it wasn’t a dead giveaway, what with the boy drowsily flopped into a sitting position on his lap. 

“Ho-lee-shit, Nick,” Ellis panted, at a loss for words beyond expletives.

Nick dragged his thumb and forefinger across the sides of his mouth. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he said sincerely, although a little clipped as he gained his composure.

Ellis murmured something unintelligible and drooped forwards, landing in a slump against Nick’s shoulder, hat pushed halfway up his head. He nuzzled into the crook of the older man’s neck and hid there.

At a little bit of a loss for what to do, Nick rested a palm on Ellis’ lower back. Well, shit. He hadn’t thought this through fully. Hadn’t considered what further moves he would need to take beyond his initial desire to watch Ellis squirm. He cleared his throat, gave Ellis’ back a gentle pat. “Alright, come on, up we go,” he coaxed, perfectly content with the sexual intimacy but not so much with the cuddling. 

Ellis begrudgingly hoisted himself upright again, but remained a dead weight on Nick’s lap, until the patting persisted on his thigh and he hustled to clamber off the man.

“That’s it, good,” Nick encouraged, not wanting to hurt Ellis’ feelings, really. 

Ellis slowly padded around the side of the bed, tying up his overalls again, and gathered up the bowls. He considered taking the first aid case, but decided on leaving it on the bed. “Can I, uh…” his body was turned to the door but he rotated back a little, an anxious expression across his face, “can I sleep up here wit’chu tonight?” 

Nick pursed his lips. Oh god, what had he started? “El, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” and then, added, when Ellis gave him a saddened little stare, “if I can’t fight then we need everyone on the ground floor. Just incase.”

Ellis gave a curt nod, either in understanding or in an effort to. He pushed for a smile and exited the creaking door, gently pressing it shut behind him with his foot. 

Nick let out a heave of a sigh, flopping back against the headrest. He palmed himself gently under the blanket, willing away the semi he’d been sporting for a while now. He heard the creaking of the footsteps as Ellis descended the staircase, and the clear shuffling of movement downstairs. And then, the muffled voice of Couch, whose deep voice resonated beyond what the others could achieve, he heard with a provoking laugh, “got Nick feeling better, have you?”

Shit.


End file.
